4/30/10

Here are a few shots from our walking tour of Granada, above is a view of the Albayzin from the hill leading towards the Alhambra. Those narrow warrens of mystery and history - we learned that a rich 13th century Moorish gentleman could show off his wealth with a walled garden within the city. If he was especially wealthy it would be filled with exotic plants such as bamboo (6 months travel time over the silk roads from China.) If he was very very wealthy he might have a couple blond haired, blue eyed girls brought over from the north. Mary would be in luck. Me, not so much. I'd be old news to the Moors.

Above is a shot of the ceiling in one the oldest buildings in Granada, the Bañuelo or Arab baths dating to the 11th century. Though they seem cold and distant now, it takes little imagination to picture them filled with steam and steamy men as little pinpricks of sunshine shot down through the thick stone to the bathers below.

A glimpse of one of the aforementioned walled gardens. Most of these are now protected historic sites which, though private, you can still gain entry to (especially if you're a cute foreign girl.)

A typical Andalusian home. All greenery and decoration.

The majestic Alhambra. Constructed during the 13th century for the last Muslim Emirs of Spain, the Alhambra was conquered in a bloodless battle by Ferdinand and Isabella. Isabella, who wore the pants in the relationship, loved it and they moved in shortly thereafter (despite Ferdinand's desire to set up shop in Toledo.

Higher up the hill beyond the Albayzin lies Sacromonte, a hotbed of flamenco song and dance, filled with houses built directly into the stone of the hill. I've never been to Mexico but the life, colour, music and magic of Sacromonte lived up to my dreams of what Mexico might be. Immediately things became a little more relaxed, a little louder, a little meaner, a little more flavorful.

Mary and I were lucky enough to attend a flamenco show later that night at La Chumbera, the international flamenco school in Granada. Though we had terrible seats, the low coarse trill of the singer, the quick, sharp stomp and sensual flow of the dance and the insanely intricate strum and pick of the guitar will stay with me a long time. A forbidden lullabye.

Up in the hills above Sacramonte lie the cave dwellings of Granada, barely visable in the photo above. Once populated by various persecuted peoples, the caves are now largely home to hippies and other squatters. We learned that every few years (usually an election year) the caves are cleared out and tenants evicted (inhabitants pay no rent/taxes etc) until the occupants (who, technically, are living there legally) descend upon the mayor's front lawn, dogs and all, until they're allowed back into their homes.

We followed this little hidden path to get a closer look....

....And found hippies....

....And homes....

....And a horse or two. Twelve years ago this might've been my ideal abode.

We decided we liked Granada pretty much as soon as we arrived. Our hostel was the best of the entire trip (as far as hostels go) and we immediately felt a sense of comfort and community. After dropping our bags in our room (which had a lovely little balcony, as seen above) we went for a walk.

Down a street or two from the hostel we came across the Plaza Nueva and a tiny tight road which runs along the River Darro (that's 'River of Gold' to you). We followed it up past churches, shops, apartments and a monastery as we familiarized ourselves with the area.

Below you can see how tiny the road really was. The narrow space was shared by motorcyclists, cars, city buses and us - literally hugging the wall every time someone drove past. No sidewalks here. This proved to be a problem for the cars too it seems; see below for a typical Granada vehicle.

The area we stayed in was the Albayzin, a medieval Moorish nest of winding roads, tiny restaurants and high walls hiding private gardens and housing on a hill facing the Alhambra. This was, by far, the hardest neighborhood to navigate of the trip. If you got lost, which you unquestionably did, the rule was: head down, hopefully you'd see something familiar to guide you. We could've used some breadcrumbs.

Mary and I took a really good walking tour of Granada our first full day there. I usually don't go in for that sort of thing but I'm so glad we did as Granada is a city steeped in History with a capital 'H'. We learnt that most of the Catholic churches in the city started their lives as mosques and on many you can still see the three copper balls of decreasing size signifying (I believe) the earth, the air and the heavens. Those pesky Catholics plunked their crosses right on top.

At the end of the road was this lovely square filled with flowers, outdoor cafes, fountains and hippies. Granada is a hippy paradise, even more so than Chefchaouen which is the hash capital of Morocco.

From here we decided to walk up the up the hill towards the Alhambra to buy our tickets to the palace (tickets must be bought in advance). We hiked up the most insanely steep street towards the entrance only to find THE MOST INSANELY STEEP path which led to the Alhambra itself. You think I'm kidding? I'm not kidding. I gave up and made Mary buy us popsicles. She came back with these Hannah Montana numbers and I took the only photo I have of us together from the whole trip.

The popsicles were good and, yes, we made it up the hill in the end. Lucky us, else we wouldn't have seen my favorite fountain of the trip:

4/29/10

Some people go out to bars and clubs when they travel. Mary and I? Gardens. Day 2 in Malaga we took the bus beyond city limits and walked to the Finca de la Concepcion, a beautiful botanic garden dating to the late 19th century. Planted by Marquis Jorge Loring Oyarzabal and Marchioness Amalia Heredia Livermore on their estate outside the city, the gardens are now maintained by the municipal botanical trust and are filled with exotic plant species from around the world.

The original estate house stands amongst lily pools, fountains, terraces once used as makeshift summer theatres and the most amazing wisteria arbor we'd ever seen. High up on on a hill to the east of the house was this little tiled pavilion at the head of a long rectangular pool.

4/28/10

The first thing we did when we got to Malaga was visit the ancient Alcazaba in the centre of town.

Ok, that was maybe the fifth thing we did. The real first thing we did was manage to get dropped off at the wrong hotel (not our fault) at 11:30pm the previous night. The second thing we did was walk to our hostel the next morning. Third we had a coffee and sammie for breakfast (we'd been subsisting off nuts, chips, chocolate and wine for a day and a half). Fouth we were accosted by gypsies outside the cathedral who told our fortunes and whom we refused to pay. FIFTH we went to the Alcazaba.

Malaga is a city along the Costa del Sol in southern Spain. Famous mostly for being the birthplace of Pablo Picasso, Antonio Banderas and a gateway to the numerous beach resorts further south, it's a very pretty, nicely kept little city with some beautiful things to see.

Malaga's Alcazaba is a Moorish fortification built between the 8th and 11th centuries. It's located on a hill in the city centre overlooking the port. Further up the hill lies what's left of the Gibralfaro, a 14th century castle which was the site of a three month siege by the citizens of Malaga against the Catholic invaders. Together the fortress and castle remain the best preserved Alcazaba in Spain.

It's not easy to tell from the next photo but the hike from the lower fortress to the Gibralfaro up above was STEEP. Serious steep. We were both very much in shape by this point of the trip but still had to stop three times along the path to catch our breath. And it was hot. Very very hot.

From the top we had beautiful views over Malaga and the Mediterranean sea beyond, it really is a pretty city.

At the foot of the fortress lie the the ruins of a 2nd century Roman theatre which, long-forgotten, were re-discovered 1951. So strange to think that a marker of a whole civilization could simply vanish under the ground, walked over and built upon for centuries until found once again. The whole of this area seems to be civilization built upon civilization - the Gibralfaro itself is built on the site of a former Phoenician lighthouse, 700 BC, from which the castle derives it's name (gebel-faro: rock of the lighthouse). Fascinating that in such a small area exists the handprint of these major Mediterranean dwellers, all of whom have left such a strong mark on this country.